


Coniungere

by LPSunnyBunny



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: (sort of), Angst, Body Dysphoria, Confinement, Forced Pregnancy, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Usage of Magic, Intersex, M/M, Magic Suppression, Magical Pregnancy, Magical restraints, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Rape, Torture, Twincest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-01 05:33:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17238347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPSunnyBunny/pseuds/LPSunnyBunny
Summary: Robin runs from darkness and pain, towards the only light he has, but it may be lost to him forever. Still, all he can do is struggle on. Even all alone he fights to make it home to his love-to Chrom.Playing hard and loose with FE:A canon. I never finished the game, but I couldn't let go of this idea. Just tossing it into the ring for now. Please observe the warnings.





	1. Act II, Scene I

Chrom was in his study, when Lissa brought him the news. He looks up and sees her, pale-faced and trembling, and rises to his feet immediately. Fredrick was behind her, his dark eyes suspiciously wet. Frederick took the time to close the door softly, almost seeming as though he was trying to extend the time between entering the room and needing to deliver his news.

 

“Lissa?” Chrom asked, worry creasing his brow, heart leaping into his throat, looking between the two of them. “Frederick?” Lissa ducked her head, fisting her hands in her skirt. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words seemed to fail her. She just shook her head turning away, staring down at the fire crackling away in the fireplace in Chrom's study. 

 

Frederick stepped forwards, his gaze downcast. 

 

“Milord, I…” Frederick held out the letter in his hand. The paper was shaking, a thin vibration at it’s edge.. “It’s… Robin. They,” he hesitated, words heavy,  “they found his body.”

 

Chrom sat down heavily. There was a loud roar, as though a raging rapids had burst through his window, sweeping everything away in a torrent. But the glass was intact, his study untouched, and the roaring was only in his ears. 

 

Frederick was still talking. Something about going there to retrieve the body. There would need to be preparations for a funeral.

 

Oh gods. 

 

Chrom felt numb. He could barely force himself to nod at whatever Frederick was saying. Just nod. 

 

“And… Although I hesitate to say this, Milord, but… with the situation with Plegia… they may ask for his body. As a gesture of... goodwill.”

 

“No.” Chrom said abruptly, his head snapping up. “No, Robin will be buried here.” He said, and had to discreetly grab at the arms of his chair to steady himself as he felt himself sway. Or maybe the floor was spinning. Was Ylisse developing a strange type of earthquake? “We will go get him ourselves.” He said through dead lips. “He’s- he deserves no less than the best.” 

 

Frederick bowed his head in acceptance.

 

“I’ll arrange the riding party.” He said quietly and withdrew from the room. Lissa’s lips twisted, pressing together, before she threw herself at Chrom, who caught her and folded her into a hug, his arms heavy.

 

“ _ Chrom! _ ” She wailed, tears welling up and overflowing, pouring down her cheeks in wet, thick streams.  _ “Robin is-!” _

 

“I know.” Chrom said, his eyes burning. He stared over at the window. The window Robin would look out in thought when he was considering their next move. “I know." He repeated, voice thick.

 

Lissa sobbed, and silently, Chrom shattered, shaking as he held Lissa tight.

  
  
  
  


\----------

  
  
  
  
  


Robin ran through the woods, his chest heaving. He sprinted as fast as he could, hastily filled leather satchel banging against his back, the stolen coat on his back flapping in the wind. He shoved branches away as he plunged through underbrush, ignoring the sting on his exposed hands and face as the branches whipped back into place, striking across soft skin and leaving painful welts.

 

He only slowed when his feet caught on a stone, sending him stumbling forwards, crashing into a thick tree trunk. He heaved for breath, ears straining to catch sounds from behind him. 

 

But there is only his laboured breathing and his heart pounding in his ears.

 

He gave in, legs shaking, sliding to the forest floor, sucking in deep breaths to try and steady his shot nerves. He barely took a moment to calm himself before he scrabbled at the thick iron band around his neck, fingers digging into his skin as he clawed at the metal, blackened and filthy. Black streaks on his fingertips smudged along his neck, twisting and fighting to pull it off. 

 

The metal was warm, malleable under his fingertips, and he yanked at it harder and harder, gasping desperately as his limbs tremble, legs kicking against the forest floor, sending leaves flying in all directions as it warped, bit by bit-

 

Then it was cold and solid under his fingers again, still around his neck, still small and unable to be removed. 

 

Robin let out a shuddering gasp, slumping down to the ground. On his wrists, identical cuffs gleam dully by the light of the setting sun. Deep black obsidian shards were inlaid into the metal, circling his wrists in vertical fashion, and Robin tugged his sleeves up and over the cuffs to hide them.

 

He took a deep breath against the lump in his throat, tilting his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. He curled in on himself, eyes burning, but no tears came. They had dried up long ago, once he figured out that no one was coming for him. 

 

Robin flexed his hands, still feeling the sensation of the leather cord in his hands, and smoothed his palms over his jacket to try and banish the feeling. His hands caught on the swell of his stomach, where he was beginning to show, and Robin shuddered, bringing his hands around to cup over the subtle curve of his stomach.

 

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I don't know if what he said was true, but- I can't risk it." Robin shivered a little more. "I'm sorry." He repeated, miserable, to the life that was in his belly. "I can't let you live." 

 

Robin let his head tip back against the tree behind him, eyes squeezing shut. He had to keep moving. He was too close. He didn't know if he had finished the job, or if _he_ would be coming after him before too long. 

 

“Chrom.” He whispered and, like a spell, the single name bolstered him, returning strength to his limbs. He pushed up on trembling legs, swaying for a moment as he caught his balance, before determinedly taking another step forwards, then another.  He would have a long way to go before he was home. He had feet.

 

Robin could still walk, so walk he would.


	2. Act I, Scene II

**THREE MONTHS AGO**

 

When Robin jolted into awareness, it was with a deep pounding ache in his head, throbbing fractures of pain spreading across the back of his skull. His eyes flew open as he lurched into a sitting position, and immediately regretted it as his vision exploded in colors of pain. He curled into himself, wheezing, and tried very hard to not move.

 

After a few heartbeats of agony the pain started to ebb away and his vision cleared. Robin carefully uncurled, raising his head and looking around carefully.

 

He was on a bed in a small room, dressed in nothing but his smallclothes, blankets rumpled around his waist. As he turned his head to examine the room, he became immediately aware of the heavy weight around his neck. He raised his hands to touch, and paused.

 

There, on his wrists, were two metal bracers. The dark silver metal circled his wrists seamlessly, looking to be solid sheets of metal without any latches or ways to remove them. Inlaid in the metal were long, thin shards of what looked to be obsidian, running the full length of the bracers, tips pointed towards his hands.

 

Robin flipped his hands over, examining the carving on the bracers, puzzled over what they could be for. After a moment, he moved on to the weight around his neck, bringing his hands up and feeling for what was there.

 

A similar metal circled around Robin’s neck, thick and high, and his heartbeat picked up as he immediately recognized it for what it was- a collar. There was a loop at the front, and just over it he could feel the smooth surface of some kind of gem, inlaid into the metal.

 

Robin took a deep breath, dropping his hands to his lap. _Focus, Robin._ He told himself, trying to work though his rising panic. _Okay, what are my options?_ He ran his gaze over the room he was in, trying to take stock of his situation.

 

The room he was in was a simple bedroom, the bed he was on shoved against the wall across from the door. At the head of the bed was a window, under which was a small nightstand, and after the window was a dresser. Next to the door was a row of shelves, covered in books. On the floor, a circular woven rug stretched across the floor. All the furniture looked handmade, from some kind of light wood.

 

Robin carefully slid out of bed, taking a step towards the dresser, intending to find clothing, but paused at the window. Looking outside, he could see what looked like a small vegetable garden, fenced in by a plain wooden fence. He tilted his head a little, trying to see more, and frowned as a corner of the fence came into view. There, balanced perfectly on the corner of the fence, was a deep red ruby, about the size of a fist. It was standing on a point, held up by some magical means.

 

Resolving to check it out the moment he got, Robin-

 

“Oh, you’re awake.”

 

Robin spun at the familiar voice, his _own_ voice, and regretted it as his head exploded in pain again, blacking out his vision and sending him staggering to the side, crashing into the dresser, and he let out a gasp of pain.

 

“Oh, careful, careful.” Hands were on his shoulders, pulling him back up to his feet, steadying him. “I guess you’re not healed all the way yet, huh?” Robin’s vision cleared, and to his horror he stared into a mirror copy of his own face. _Grima._

 

“What, _how-_ ” Robin choked out, dizzy, but Grima just laughed, reaching out one hand and lightly running his thumb down Robin’s cheek until he was holding Robin’s chin in a light grip.

 

“Oh, Robin.” Grima said, a mocking tone to his voice. All six of his burning red eyes were staring at Robin, blinking together. “You really didn’t think that it would be _that_ easy to get rid of our master, did you?”

 

Robin stared at Grima in horror.

 

“Really, now.” Grima’s gaze slid down the length of Robin’s form before flicking back up to meet Robin’s eyes in a snap. “There’s so much work to be done, after all.” He purred. “With our combined power, we’ll create the _true_ vessel for our master.”

 

Grima’s words were low, seductive. Robin found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Grima’s deep red eyes, his skin prickling. A wash of cold slid down his spine, and he shivered.

 

“What do you mean?” Robin asked, feeling like the room was spinning around them. Grima chuckled, brushing his thumb back and forth over Robin’s lower lip.

 

“With a _true_ vessel…” Grima murmured, tilting his head closer. Robin distantly noted, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Grima was several inches shorter than Robin was, but all his attention was on the way Grima’s eyes were half-lidded, the way his mouth was shaping the words sliding from his lips. “...our master can return… _forever_.” He said, words like honey, dripping from his lips with a decadence that was enticing. “No blow would kill him, no power could seal him. Just think… our master… immortal… all powerful…”

 

Grima was so close now, there was barely a hair’s distance between their lips. His heated breath ghosted over Robin’s face.

 

“ _Forever._ ” He breathed. He sealed the distance between their lips, hands sliding around Robin’s head so he could kiss his way into Robin’s mouth.

 

Robin heard himself moan as though it were happening to someone else. It sounded far-away and underwater, Grima’s tongue a distant sensation. His limbs felt heavy, secured only in place by Grima’s touch.

 

Grima’s fingers slid over a spot on the back of Robin’s head and pain shot through Robin, snapping him out of the haze as though he had been struck by lightning. He shoved Grima away with a shout, stumbling backwards and hitting the wall. His shoulders took the brunt of the impact, an ache flaring up immediately, shoving the breath from his body.

 

Grima looked furious.

 

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted those _fools_ to get you to me.” He growled, all his honey and seductive words gone, vanished like mist in the burning sun. “They hurt you despite my explicit orders." His eyes narrowed, all six of them. "Still, at least I can use this.”

 

Robin fought to breathe as Grima stalked forwards, gaze darting around the room, frantically searching for a weapon. He lunged for the dresser, for anything, only for Grima to grab him by the shoulder and fling him back against the wall.

 

Robin’s head cracked back against the window and his vision went black from the agony that spiked through him. He slumped to the floor, shaking in pain, and was helpless to resist as Grima hauled him up to his feet, dragging him back to the bed and dumping him down onto it.

 

“Listen, Robin.” The bed sank down as Grima sat down next to Robin and then Grima’s hand was in his hair, petting lightly. Robin fought to focus through the heartbeat pulsing in his head in time with the throbbing of his pain. “Relax. You’re not going anywhere, I’ve made sure of it. This will be a lot easier- and a lot less painful- if you just accept that.”

 

Grima hummed a little, his fingers gliding over Robin’s cheek.

 

“Besides.” He said. “It’s an honor, creating the being that will allow our master to return to the world.”

 

Robin’s vision started to clear as the pain drained away and he stared up at Grima. Grima chuckled, sliding his hand down Robin’s bare chest to his abdomen.

 

“And as the one who gets to carry that vessel into this world…” Grima said, pressing his hand a little into Robin’s stomach, “you should feel _blessed_.”

 

Robin’s brow furrowed, despite the horror he could feel starting to sweep over him at Grima’s words.

 

“What… are you saying?” He forced out, struggling into a sitting position. Grima allowed him to sit up, keeping his hand on Robin’s stomach. “I can’t carry… a child.”

 

“Oh no, not like this.” Grima agreed, his eyes closing as he smiled at Robin. “But don’t worry.” He leaned in and pressed his mouth to Robin’s ear.

 

“I already know how to fix that.” He crooned, sending a shiver down Robin’s spine. Robin pulled away, pushing Grima’s hand off him with a swipe. Grima just seemed amused by the action.

 

“Three days, dear Robin.” Grima said, and rose up from the bed. He faced Robin, a sly grin on his face. “Three days to recover, and then…” He chuckled. “We’ll take care of that problem.”

 

The door closed behind Grima, and Robin immediately rose to his feet. He started to search through the drawer, his brow furrowing at the strange choice of clothing inside. He determinedly ignored the female clothing, pulling out a shirt and a pair of pants that looked like it would fit him.

 

Once dressed, he stepped over to the window. It didn’t have a latch of any kind, it was just a simple window that went up in it’s frame to open. Robin’s heart pounded in his ears as he settled his hands on the glass panes, starting to ease it upwards.

 

Luck must have been on his side, because it slid up with just the softest grind of wood on wood. Robin had to turn at an angle, but he wiggled through the window, dropping to the ground outside. He leaned against the outside of the house for a moment to catch his breath, head aching, then straightened up and started sprinting for the fence, hopping over it and starting to run into the woods.

 

He barely made it a handful of feet past the fence before his limbs started to go heavy, his steps slowing as his wrists started tugging towards the ground. Robin struggled against the weight that was starting to bear down on him, sinking to his knees. It was hard to breathe against the weight, his head starting to bow under the pressure. Every breath was becoming labored.

 

Hives broke out across his skin, his arms starting to shake. It felt like a boulder had been put on his back, forcing him down towards the ground, driving the air from his lungs. A trembling started in his hands, cold slipping down his spine. Exertion brought a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, slipping along his nose. He couldn't even raise his hand to swipe it away, they were locked to the ground, pressing down against the grass.

 

“Already? I would have thought you would have at least tried to get shoes.” Grima’s voice called from behind Robin. Robin forced his head around to see Grima hop the fence, strolling casually towards Robin, hands in the pockets of his-their- iconic jacket.

 

“Wh…..” Robin could barely speak, still struggling to breathe. “Whhhha…”

 

“Oh, simple enough warding spell.” Grima shrugged, squatting down in front of Robin. “When one specific gem moves past a boundary it triggers a spell to increase your own personal gravity.” He reached out and hooked his finger into the loop at the front of Robin’s collar.

 

“You didn’t _really_ think I’d just _let_ you run away, now did I?” Grima asked, his six red eyes burning into Robin’s own. He looked distinctly amused, but there was a dangerous glint to his gaze. Robin forced another breath into his lungs.

 

Grima tugged on the loop, pulling Robin towards the house like it was nothing. The pressure on Robin eased, enough for him to struggle to his feet as Grima rose up, finger still hooked into Robin’s collar, pulling him along as he strode back to the house. Robin struggled to follow behind, the strange sensation of being lead by his neck an entirely unpleasant one.

 

“Next time I’ll leave you out there for a while.” Grima said casually, as he lightly hopped back over the fence, Robin following behind. “I’m sure it will be very unpleasant.” He unhooked his finger from Robin’s collar, turning and giving him a smile, lightly brushing his knuckles over Robin’s cheek. Robin tilted his head away from the touch.

 

Grima chuckled, turning on his heel and walking away, back inside the house. Robin turned back to look at the forest just beyond the fence, a pit opening up in his stomach.

 

 _Three days._ He thought to himself. _I can get this collar off in three days and get out of here. I have to. I can’t let Grima complete his scheme to bring the Fell Dragon into the world permanently._

 

_I have to get out of here._


	3. Act I, Scene III

When Robin was finished pacing the outside length of the fence, he had learned exactly five pieces of information.

 

First, the anchors for the spell relating to his collar were the four rubies on each corner post of the fence. When he attempted to touch them he was met with a firm, invisible barrier. No matter what he used to try and get through, nothing could touch them.

 

Second, this house had originally belonged to a middle-aged couple. Their bodies had been tossed over the fence behind the house carelessly, and they looked as though they had been there for several days. Robin tried very hard to not look at them except to whisper an apology and a prayer for their safe passage into the afterworld.

 

Third, they were likely in Ylisse. The forests looked like the north-west area of Ylisse, but honestly Robin couldn’t be entirely certain of that fact.

 

Fourth, Grima seemed to be content in his security. He had not checked on Robin once in the time that Robin had spent outside. 

 

And last, the fence was exactly one hundred and twenty five paces all the way around. There was a storage shed in the back that contained meats in various stages of drying, and there was a vegetable garden in front of the house. 

 

When Robin finally stepped through the front door of the house, the sun was starting to set. The inside of the house was lit with a bright oil lamp.

 

“Done looking for a way out?” Grima asked, amused, and Robin turned to look at him. Grima was stirring a pot on the stove, coat draped over the back of a nearby chair. 

 

Robin chose to ignore Grima and the bizarre image of Grima  _ cooking _ . It was a childish response, but Robin couldn’t bring himself to care. He instead focused on examining the inside of the house.

 

The front door opened into a single, wide room. The kitchen was off to the right, a wood-burning stove and a sink being the main features. A single table with two chairs was useable as a workspace or as a dining area. 

 

The left of the main room had a rug spread out on the floor in front of a fireplace. Two comfortable-looking chairs were positioned facing the fire, and there was a low table between the two chairs with a couple of books stacked on it. There was a fire banked in the fireplace, diffusing it’s warmth into the room at a slow, steady pace. On one side of the fireplace there was a bookshelf. The upper shelves were decorated with small wooden statues, the lower shelves had more books on them. On the other side of the fireplace was a wooden chest.

 

On the opposite wall of the entrance there were three doors, two of which were open. Robin could see the bedroom and a bathroom through the two open doors. His gaze settled on the third door and he started crossing the room towards it. 

 

As he passed the chairs he glanced down at the books on the low table and froze. There, sitting innocently on the table, was a simple fire tome. 

 

Robin cast a glance at Grima, he was still occupied with the pot on the stove. His back was to Robin. Robin extended one hand down to the tome, picking it up slowly. He brought it up to his chest, feeling his magic hum to life, flooding through his being. 

 

He opened the book as slowly as possible, trying not to rustle the pages and alert Grima. The fire crackling in the heart seemed incredibly loud, the floorboards creaking slightly under his feet as he turned to face Grima.

 

A low level fire spell wouldn’t kill Grima, it would probably barely damage him, but if it took him off guard, then maybe Robin could find another weapon, could try something else to kill Grima. He couldn’t cancel out a knife to the heart, that was for sure. 

 

Robin’s heart pounded in his ears as he called up his magic, readying to unleash the spell, staring at Grima’s back. His eyes flicked over the kitchen. There was a knife block on one of the countertops, if Robin was fast, he could grab it after setting Grima on fire and slit his throat. 

 

He took a breath, opening his mouth to cast the spell-

 

Grima turned around and Robin froze. He tilted his head a little, looking down at the tome in Robin’s hands. An ugly smile spread across his face.

 

“Are you going to set me on fire, Robin?” He asked, a maniacal glee in his voice.

 

“Grima, release me from your hold.” Robin commanded, trying to summon up all his presence as the tactician of the Shepherds. “I promise- if you let me go and don’t cause any trouble, we won’t come after you.”

 

Grima laughed, a terrible, mocking sound. Robin’s heart sunk. Leveraging with him was bound to fail, but Robin had to try.

 

“ **Fire!** ” He commanded, casting the spell from the tome. Only- it didn’t cast.

 

Robin felt his magic surge up in response to his will, springing forward to rush out his fingertips, but it never made it past his wrists. The bracers on his wrists heated up, going tight, and the magic was absorbed by the metal, the shards of obsidian turning a brilliant red for a moment. After a moment, they cooled, releasing his wrists again. 

 

Robin stared in horror.

 

Grima laughed, his eyes wide in his mocking mirth, grin splitting his face in a wide, maniacal expression. Desperate to shut him up, Robin tried again.

 

“ **Fire!** ” He commanded weakly, but it ended the same way, the magic drawn into the bracers and the obsidian going red. Robin dropped the tome, staring down at the bracers. Grima’s mocking laughter ringing in his ears. 

 

“You- you sealed my magic.” Robin said, horrified.

 

“Of  _ course _ I did.” Grima said, breathless from laughter. “You think I would just  _ leave _ you with your most powerful tool?” 

 

Robin lunged for Grima. Grima made no move to dodge and Robin wrapped his hands around Grima’s neck, the two of them crashing to the floor. Grima wheezed, laughter bubbling up in his chest again as Robin tightened his fingers. 

 

“That’s- not all.” Grima wheezed out, but Robin wasn’t willing to listen. He tightened his grip, intending on choking the life out of Grima, but Grima put one hand on one of the bracers. 

 

“ **Stop** .” He said breathlessly, firm intent in his voice, and then Robin couldn’t move. Grima carefully pried Robin’s unresisting fingers off his neck. Robin could only stare down at him in horror, every muscle frozen, unable to even move his eyes, his lungs starting to ache. He couldn’t even breathe. 

 

All he could do was stare as Grima flipped the two of them, pushing Robin down to the ground, straddling his hips. 

 

“ **Return.** ” Grima said, and Robin heaved in a breath as control was returned to him, sucking in air, trembling. Grima had complete control over him. 

 

“Would you like some more of my tricks, Robin?” Grima purred, his eyes narrowing as he bend over Robin. “I’ve sure you’d like to know, you love having all the information in that head of yours.” 

 

He wrapped his fingers around the bracers and brought them up over Robin’s head, pressing them into the floor.

 

**“Stay.** ” Grima let go, and Robin flexed experimentally, dread growing in his stomach. His wrists didn’t move. 

 

“And lastly…” Grima grinned that ugly, mocking smile, cupping Robin’s cheeks, blinking slowly, “...I think you’ll  _ like  _ this.” Before Robin had time to guess what he meant, Grima was purring out a single word.

 

“ **Release.** ” 

 

Magic surged down from the bracers, washing over Robin’s body and heating it. To Robin’s horrors, his cheeks flushed, a deep heat pooling in his gut, snaking up and down his spine. A helpless, trembling pleasure shot through him, and he couldn’t stop the seeking buck of his hips as he was instantly brought to full hardness, his cock aching in his smallclothes.

 

“W-What-” Robin gasped, feet sliding along the floor as he fought for purchase, instinctively trying to grind up, trying to get some kind of pressure against his needy cock. 

 

Grima laughed and rocked his hips down against Robin’s. Robin cried out at the relief, his eyes squeezing shut.

 

“Oh, yes, Robin. Just like that.” Grima said, standing up in a single swift motion. The sudden absence was like a punch to the gut and Robin clenched his thighs, trying to rock up and find some kind of relief. He tugged at the bracers on his wrists, but they were immovable. 

 

“Your own magical energy converted into an entirely different spell.” Grima was saying, but Robin couldn’t focus over his own panting, the spell circling inside without anywhere to go, trying to find release, a desperate itch that needed scratching. “It’ll build and build until it either kills you or you find release.”

 

“P-Please.” Robin gasped out, his temples growing damp from exertion as he thrusted his hips up into nothing. He was so hard it  _ hurt _ , twisting awkwardly against his restraints, putting strain on his shoulders as he tried to turn over to grind against the floor. Every second was agony, it was taking everything Robin had to not start weeping.

 

Grima’s foot knocked into Robin’s hip, flipping him back over and pinning him to the floor on his back. Robin whimpered, cracking his eyes open to look up at Grima, who looked mirthful.

 

“Would you like some help?” Grima asked, a cruel grin on his face. It  _ burned  _ at Robin to ask this from his greatest enemy, but- the desperation was painful, a sharp thing that was hurting him.

 

“Please.” Robin tried to say, but it came out as a helpless, wanton moan. “Grima…”

 

Grima laughed, sliding his foot over the bulge in Robin’s pants. Robin’s hips jumped at the contact, humping up against the unyielding pressure of Grima’s shoe. It wasn’t much, but it was enough, the painful edge starting to ebb away.

 

“Absolutely beautiful.” Grima said, before taking his foot away. A word of protest jumped to Robin’s lips, but then Grima was dropping his weight onto Robin’s hips again, putting all his weight onto Robin’s hips and rocking down.

 

Robin whined as shocks of pleasure jolted through him with each press, helplessly thrusting up to meet them. His soft, desperate noises filled the room, moans of relief starting to fall from his lips. 

 

Grima’s hands were sliding up Robin’s body, slipping under his shirt and along his skin. 

 

“So gorgeous.” Grima said, lightly thumbing over one of Robin’s nipples. It didn’t feel like much, just a light touch of skin on skin, but Robin whimpered all the same. He could feel his climax approaching, but Grima’s rocking wasn’t enough to put him over the edge. 

 

“Grima… please.” Robin said desperately, trying to press his hips up harder, urge Grima on, but Grima just lifted his hips up all the way, removing the touch entirely. Robin shuddered in desperation, his breathing shaky as he stared up at Grima desperately.

 

“You look lovely like this, Robin.” Grima said, his gaze hovering somewhere between cruely amused and adoring. “You want to cum?” He asked in a conversational tone, almost as though he was wondering if Robin preferred tea or coffee with breakfast. 

 

“Please.” Robin moaned. “I- I-” 

 

Grima looked down at him consideringly.

 

“It wasn’t very nice of you.” He said, thumbing over Robin’s lip as the desperate ache started to build again in Robin’s cock. “Trying to set me on fire. That could have hurt me.”

 

Robin tried to rock up again, but Grima just shifted up until he was sitting on Robin’s stomach, denying him relief. Robin let out a soft whimper, hips twisting, not entirely under his own control.

 

“I don’t think you’ll do that again, will you?” Grima continued, tilting his head and looking down at Robin. When Robin just looked up at him, glassy-eyed, Grima prompted him again. “Right?”

 

“R-Right.” Robin whispered, helpless. 

 

“Good.” Grima smiled. “You want to cum?” He asked. 

 

“Yes.. _. _ ” 

 

“And you’ll be good from now on?” 

 

“Yes _. Please,  _ Grima.” 

 

Grima hummed, before nodding a little. 

 

“Alright.” He slid back down Robin’s torso and shoved Robin’s legs apart, settling between them. Robin closed his eyes, feeling horribly exposed, but let out a moan as Grima gave his cock a squeeze through his clothing. His legs jumped at the touch, but Grima didn’t seem to care, undoing the laces on Robin’s pants and pulling them down along with Robin’s smallclothes. 

 

Robin turned his face away, pressing his cheek to his arm as he canted his hips up desperately towards Grima. 

 

Grima wrapped a hand around Robin’s cock and, just like that, Robin was gone. The touch hit him as hard as a kick from a horse, wrenching his climax from him and pulling the energy of the spell through him at the same time, pleasure and heat exploding through him and whiting out his vision. 

 

When he came down, his limbs were shaking, his vision was blurry, and Grima was giving him an appraising look.

 

“ **Go.** ” Grima murmured, and suddenly Robin could move his wrists again. He slid them down to his sides, shoulders aching, and just turned his face away again, wanting to do nothing more than just pass out. 

 

“What that your first time with someone else, Robin?” Grima asked curiously, but Robin just pressed his lips together, refusing to answer. Grima, surprisingly, didn’t press for an answer, instead rising to his feet.

 

Robin threw an arm over his eyes, wishing he could just die. The sweat on his skin was starting to cool, and his cum was sticky and uncomfortable. There was a burning behind his eyes. 

 

A damp cloth swiped over his stomach, and Robin gave a start, pulling his arm away and looking up into Grima’s face. Grima just arched an eyebrow at Robin as he cleaned him up. Robin flushed with embarrassment, but didn’t question him. 

 

Once Grima was done cleaning him up, he hauled Robin up to his feet. Robin allowed Grima to fix his clothing, feeling a bit like a child, but his exhaustion made it so he could barely hold up his own head. Grima steered Robin over to one of the chairs at the table, sitting him down.

 

“Stay.” Grima commanded, but there was no magic accompany the word. Robin just let his gaze drop down to the table, a hardness growing in his throat. He stayed there as Grima left, and he stayed there as Grima returned with a blanket from the bed, draping it around Robin and tucking it behind his shoulders to secure it. 

 

Grima returned to the stove, giving the pot another stir. He brought the spoon up to his mouth, blowing on it before having a taste.

 

“Perfect.” He said, and Robin raised his head, slowly tracking Grima as he retrieved two bowls from the cupboards, starting to dish it out. He set the bowls down on the table, followed by two spoons.

 

“Eat up, Robin.” Grima said. “You haven’t had anything substantial in at least a day and a half.” He dropped into his own chair, picking up his spoon and beginning to eat.

 

Robin stared at the bowl of stew. He didn’t want to eat anything Grima made, but as the scent of the stew reached his nose, his stomach was abruptly reminded that it was, in fact, empty, and let out a growl. It felt like it was caving in.

 

Still, he felt too exhausted to eat, all of his energy having been wrung from him. He just closed his eyes, a headache starting to creep into existence between his temples. 

 

“Robin.” Grima prompted. “Eat.” 

 

When Robin continued to remain silent, Grima let out an annoyed sigh. There was the sound of him getting up from his chair, the sound of wood on wood. 

 

“Here.”

 

Robin opened his eyes, looking down at the spoon of soup that was now being held out to him. His slowly looked up to Grima’s impatient expression, then down to the spoon again. 

 

“You’re no good to me-  _ or  _ our master- if you’re starving.” Grima said, and pressed the spoon to Robin’s mouth. Robin reluctantly opened his mouth, accepting the soup. It was kind of bland, but it was warm. 

 

He swallowed it down around the lump in his throat, feeling like a child, and to his horror he had to blink back tears. Grima held up the next spoonful, feeding it to Robin. 

 

Robin reached up, taking the spoon from Grima’s hand. Swallowing was difficult, his throat tight. The blanket pooled around his waist as he squeezed his eyes closed. The hand holding the spoon shook.

 

Robin wept. 

 

The tears spilled over all at once, fat and heavy and rolling down his cheeks. They were accompanied by deep, soul-wracking sobs, a sense of hopelessness and violation crashing down on him.

 

Grima sighed. His hand carefully slid along the back of Robin’s head, mindful of his injury, tugging him over to rest his head against Grima’s shoulder.

 

“Easy, Robin.” Grima murmured. “This doesn’t have to be difficult.” Robin sobbed into Grima’s shoulder. “It’s an honor, this job that’s been given to you. I’ve confined you for your own safety, really. If everyone out there knew of what we were doing, they would kill us on sight.” 

 

“Just don’t fight it, Robin.” Grima crooned, as Robin let out a shuddery, heaving breath. “We’ll bring our master into this world and everything will be perfect. We can make the most of this situation, I promise.”

 

All Robin could do was cry, his tears soaking across the fabric of Grima’s shirt. Grima sat there with him until Robin’s tears had slowed to a trickle and wiped Robin’s face with his sleeve. 

 

“Better?” Grima asked, but Robin cast his gaze away, pulling back. Grima cupped Robin’s cheek, turning his face back to meet Robin’s gaze. “Hey.” He said and leaned in, kissing Robin gently. 

 

Robin closed his eyes as Grima kissed him, unreceptive to the motion, just letting Grima do whatever he wanted. Grima’s lips were chapped and slightly wet. It was a smooth glide, as Grima kissed him, and Robin felt another drop of water escape to roll down his cheek.

 

Grima pulled back, giving Robin a strange, almost gentle, smile. 

 

“It’ll be okay, Robin.” Grima promised. “You’ll see.” Grima rose to his feet, bringing his chair back around to his side of the table, sitting down and starting to eat again. 

 

Robin looked down at his bowl again, raising a heavy arm and starting to eat again. It was an automatic motion, bringing the food up to his mouth and eating it. Once his stomach was full, he set his spoon down on the table. 

 

Grima just looked at him idly, still eating. 

 

Robin pulled the blanket around his shoulders, rising to his feet. He averted his gaze as he stepped past Grima to the bedroom door, closing the door behind him. 

 

He sunk into bed, no energy to get undressed, and pulled the covers up around him as best he could. In no time at all, he was curling up, squeezing his eyes closed and starting to cry again, silent tears slipping down to the pillow below his head and getting it damp. 

 

Once he was exhausted, tears all spent, he took the time to flip the pillow over to the dry side. Sleeping on wet cloth was uncomfortable.


	4. Act I, Scene IV

Robin’s eyes opened to the dull morning light streaming in through the window. He lay under the covers, staring up at the ceiling, a sluggish feeling of exhaustion pumping through his veins.

 

Grima had…  _ violated  _ him yesterday. Just thinking about it made his stomach churn. He squeezed his eyes closed, turning over onto his side, tugging the sheets up around his shoulders and huddling into them, bringing his knees up to his chest.

 

His skin felt like it was crawling. He started rubbing at his wrists, trying to work under the bracers, but they remained snug. His nails were short, bitten-off, but he tried to slide them under the edge anyway, but no matter how he twisted his fingers and moved his arm, he couldn’t seem to get a grip.

 

Red lines were starting to appear on his arms, stinging from his scratching. Robin dropped his hands with a huff.

 

He wanted to stay in bed and pretend that none of this was happening. He wanted to turn himself into a cocoon of blankets and just sleep forever.

 

Reluctantly, he sat up instead. Sitting around wouldn’t break him out. He had to get out of here before Grima could complete… whatever he wanted to do to Robin. Just thinking about it made him uneasy.

 

Robin took his time changing out of his clothes from yesterday, turning his options over in his head.

 

_ I won’t be able to come straight at him if he can control me with the cuffs...   _ He ignored the uncomfortable slimy feeling in his gut at remembering what happened yesterday, the heat that he was unable to control or even fight against.  _ I’ll have to take him by surprise… but he might be expecting that. If I try too soon, I’ll blow my best chance.  _

 

_ Tomorrow.  _ Robin decided, tugging sleeves down over the bracers.  _ He said three days. I’ll take my chance tomorrow, unless I see a better one.  _

 

He adjusted the collar of his shirt, wishing he had something to wrap around his neck to cover up the band wrapping around it. It was horribly uncomfortable, knowing that Grima’s hold on him was just… so prominently displayed.

 

But, unable to do anything about it, Robin just let the matter drop, leaving his room and entering the main area. He glanced around, but the room was thankfully Grima-free.

 

After a basic fare of dried venison that Robin reluctantly choked down, he stepped outside, scanning the area. Grima wasn’t outside, either, which was strange. Where  _ was  _ he? 

 

Still, Robin wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He immediately set to work, trying to find a way to penetrate the barriers holding the corner-wards in place. 

 

Just the same as last night, attempts to get through the barrier with his hands were met with a solid wall. Organic matter (plant stems) and inorganic matter (rocks) were met with the same fate.

 

Robin sighed, sitting down on the grass and trying to think. What he wouldn’t give for Miriel to be here now, theorizing on how to get through the barrier and break him out. He could almost hear her voice, now, chiding him for being so simplistic in his tests.

 

Robin tossed another rock lightly at the barrier, sighing as it bounced off. Then another. Then another.

 

Bounce, bounce, bounce. 

 

Deciding it would be a waste of time to continue this, Robin rose to his feet, heading back inside. 

 

Still no Grima. 

 

Robin frowned a little, looking around the main room of the house. Where  _ was  _ Grima? Though he supposed that Grima wouldn’t need to keep an eye on him, confident as he was in his restraints, it was still strange that he would just- leave Robin alone.

 

Robin eyed the door down to the basement for a moment, before striding across the room and trying the door. It was unlocked, so Robin pushed it open, descending down into the cellar of the house.

 

There wasn’t any light in the cellar, so Robin was forced to retreat back upstairs and hunt for a candle. He silently mourned the loss of his fire magic, but he eventually found matches and gave it a light before returning back down.

 

The cellar seemed to have originally been a food storage, judging by the remaining rows of caskets in there, but a chunk of it had been cleared out for a workspace. Grima was sitting at the desk, head resting on his folded arms, breathing slowly. 

 

_ Is he… asleep?  _ Robin crept closer, raising the candle a little higher. As the light fell across Grima’s face, one of his six eyes snapped open, focusing on Robin. The other five remained closed.

 

Robin stared down at Grima, at that one, burning red eye. Fear paralyzed him, pinned him in place, gaze locked with that terrible  _ evil  _ stare. Everything everyone had fought again, everyone from the future as well- was all wrapped up in that single look.

 

The eye blinked closed as Grima stirred, falling in line with the others as he raised his head, yawning.

 

“Mm, Robin?” He blinked a little, looking up at Robin. “What’re you doing down here?”

 

Robin swallowed.

 

“Just… wondering where you were.” He said, his voice weak.

 

“Ah. Just finishing up some last minute preparations,” Grima said, yawning again as he pushed back from the desk. Robin glanced over the mess gathered there on the desk, scattered papers with runes written down, open books, a large bowl with carvings around the edge, a scattered assortment of gemstones, a burnt out candle-

 

“-but nothing you need to be concerned about.” Grima took Robin’s arm as he stood up, turning Robin away from the edge and leading him back upstairs. “Have you eaten yet?”

 

“Yes.” Robin said, letting Grima take the candle from him and stuffing it out. “You weren’t awake, so…”

 

“Mm, that’s fine.” Grima shut the basement door and tossed himself down onto the couch in front of the fireplace, draping an arm over his eyes. 

 

Robin stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not quite sure what to do with himself. He took a step forwards, looking down over the back of the couch at Grima, who seemed to be falling back asleep.

 

Robin cast a glance back at the kitchen counter. At the block of knives. He could grab one and…

 

He looked back down at Grima, who was looking up at Robin, raising an eyebrow curiously up at him.

 

“Was there something you needed, Robin?” Grima asked. 

 

“....no.” Robin said after a moment. Grima just waited, looking up at Robin. Robin bid a silent retreat, turning away and going back into his room. 

 

He left the door to his room partially open, pulling a random book off of the shelf and starting to idly browse through it, listening as hard as he could. If Grima was falling asleep…

 

Robin waited patiently, forcing himself to count to a hundred three times before counting backwards another time for good measure. He set his book aside, creeping out of his room and stepping over to the table in front of the couch to retrieve the candle and matches again.

 

He turned to go to the basement door, and paused.

 

Grima was just… sleeping. Unguarded. Robin’s gaze shot to the kitchen. His heartbeat erupted in his ears, pounding in a dizzying swell.

 

His chance. It couldn’t be that easy.  _ Could it? _

 

He slowly crept his way across the floor, reaching out to the knife block and pulling the longest, thickest knife out of the bunch. 

 

The distance to the couch seemed immense. 

 

His focus narrowed to the handful of steps it would take. 

 

Crossing the room one slow step at a time. 

 

Standing at the head of the couch. 

 

Looking down at Grima, face covered. 

 

Raising the knife.

 

“Are you going to stab me, Robin?” 

 

Grima’s mouth curved into a grin. Robin froze, a cold sweat prickling across his skin.  _ How did he- _

 

“ **Stay.** ” The bracers froze in place. Grima took his arm away, blinking up at Robin, his grin taking a malicious edge. “Oh,  _ Robin. _ ” He crooned. “You weren’t really trying to  _ hurt  _ me, were you?” He laughed, rising up from the couch. Robin stared mutely at Grima.

 

_ How-? How?! _

 

Grima slipped the knife out of Robin’s hand, dropping it carelessly onto the table. He slid into the space between Robin and the couch, bumping their noses together in a pantomime of affection.

 

“There’s not a single thing you can hide from me.” Grima said, one hand settling on Robin’s hip, the touch searing, the other coming up to thumb over Robin’s lower lip. “I know  _ everything  _ about you, Robin.” 

 

A choking sense of hopelessness was threatening to overwhelm Robin as Grima leaned in, kissing him. He jerked back, his arm yanking uncomfortably from the bracer, but Grima just yanked him back in, kissing him hard, digging his teeth into Robin’s lower lip.

 

Robin just squeezed his eyes shut, unable to do anything about the assault as Grima slid his tongue into Robin’s mouth.

 

But eventually Grima pulled back.

 

“Good boy.” He purred. “Now don’t try something like that again, okay? Now  **go.** ” The bracer released and Robin stumbled back. Grima laughed, a mocking little sound. 

 

Robin fled to his room, slamming the door shut as his eyes burned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "in the next couple weeks" i said, giving myself time to work. "ill just try writing something today" i said before i dumped all this onto the page.


End file.
